From Across the Silence
by QuillPenAndAnInkJar
Summary: A trip down memory lane. For Evan Hansen, that can be quite dangerous. But when he discovers a list of ten books in his eighth grade yearbook, a list written by a memory he'd tried to forget, he decides to go on the adventure. (Rated K plus for thematic elements, adult themes, and Jared.)
1. The Discovery

**Hi everybody! I've been working on this story idea for a long time, and I'm very excited to share it with the world! This is a little prologue to what's about to come, so *YouTuber voice* make sure to smash that favorite and follow button! ;)**

**(Disclaimer: DEH is not my property. It is the property of its writers, I think? I don't know how it works with Broadway shows? You can't say, like, _Warner Brothers_ or _Disney_ \- unless it's a Disney show, then you can say Disney - but it isn't mine, so there you go.)**

* * *

**_Chapter 1:_**

**_The Discovery_**

"So how long are you doing this?" Heidi asked.

"Just for a year," Evan said. "I can take some classes at the community college, so I'll have some credits when I go in. And it'll give me a chance to save some money for _actual_ college."

"That sounds smart," Heidi said. "And you're starting tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Evan said. "I've told you this a million times."

"You can never be too safe," Heidi said. "I still can't believe it. My little guy, all grown up."

Evan smiled. Heidi walked over to him and hugged him.

"Mom, I'm still living with you for now," Evan said. "It's not like I'll be a thousand miles away from you."

"I know," Heidi said. "But I'll still miss you."

"Thanks, Mom," Evan said, breaking the hug. "Do you mind if I go downstairs and clean out a spot in the basement?"

"Oh, that's fine," Heidi said.

"Thanks," Evan said. He waved goodbye as he opened the door to the basement and walked down.

All the movies he had ever seen had portrayed the basement as the scariest part of the house, but Evan had always liked his basement. It was painted in the same pale blue as the rest of the house, and it felt like just another room - not some dark, dusty place where evil was lurking.

In the corner of the basement was a bed - his parents' old king bed, looking as new as the last time he had seen it. The mattress was still good - but it was covered in boxes of old books and toys, bags of old clothes that Heidi had forgotten to drop in the donate bin, and what looked like an old, broken tray table.

Evan sighed, going to work. He grabbed the tray table and moved it to another part of the basement. The bags went on the stairs, to go into his car - maybe he could donate them on his way to his first day of work. _It might be a good tax deduction_, he thought.

After he had cleared the toys from the bed, he was left with the boxes of books. One box looked like the books he had read as a kid - Dr. Seuss, Eric Carle, _Goodnight Moon_. The other had the word "memories" written on the side; from the looks of it, it was filled with photo albums and old school yearbooks.

His face scrunched up as he randomly took one of the yearbooks from the box, sitting down on the bed and opening up the book to a random page.

Of course. It was _that_ page. Why did it have to be _that_ page?

It was his eighth grade yearbook - and, being such a small school, each kid had gotten their own page. Evan had filled his with pictures of him and his "friends" from school - Jared and Alana, mostly - and pictures of his mom.

But this wasn't Evan's page. Or Jared's, or Alana's.

Staring him in the face was the student page of Connor Murphy.

How long had it been since he had confessed? Two, three months? He still hadn't talked to Zoe, or even tried. He'd begged Alana to try and find a way to stop the threats against the Murphys, but he still hadn't dared to tell her that he had been lying. He'd gotten rid of all his social media apps, stopped himself from getting notifications about the Connor Project. On the last day of school, he had tried to go up to Jared and apologize for what he had done, but he had been ignored. The only thing he had heard since graduation was an email from Alana, reading, "_Have you gone to the orchard yet? It's gorgeous - I can totally see you and Connor there._" He had never replied - he didn't want to bring those bad memories back.

But seeing Connor's page in the yearbook, his hair shorter than Evan had remembered, flooded his mind with those memories, as though a dam had broken in his subconscious.

Evan was about to close the book, throw it back in the "memories" box, and chuck the box across the room, when he noticed something about the page.

There were no pictures. There were no funny movie quotes or obsession over friends.

But there was a heading: _My Favorite Books_. Underneath was a list of ten titles - while Evan had heard of some of them before, he had never read them.

Evan looked at the list for what felt like forever. Then he put the box next to his bed and put the book next to the bags of donatable clothes.

_Thank goodness there's a Barnes and Noble next to Pottery Barn,_ he thought.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I promise there'll be some more action soon - I thought this would be a good way to start it off, and also motivate me to write more by actually starting to post the story. The first time I read the script, I was really intrigued by the concept of reading the ten favorite books of someone who had died, to get to know them better. Now I just need to write it. **

**Feel free to review, but please no negative reviews or cursing. (And please, NOTHING POLITICAL!) Thanks!**


	2. The Book Thief

**Hey guys! I thought I'd put up a new chapter and get myself even more motivated. Also, have any of you seen _The Politician_? I binge-watched the whole series the day it came out, and it was so good - I can't wait for season 2! In the meantime, here's the straighter version of _The Politician_.**

**By the way, due to the structure of this story, there will be spoilers for the books involved on Connor's yearbook list. While reading them is recommended (they're on the list for a reason), you probably should be able to understand the chapter without reading it.**

**(Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.)**

* * *

_**Chapter 2:**_

_**The Book Thief**_

_It was the last one Connor had read._

_It was a few months before the end of eighth grade, when he was working with Alana on a science project, and she had mentioned a book that she was reading as fast as she could because it was that good. The Book Thief, she said it was called._

_Connor had scoffed, thinking that it was probably just a lighthearted adventure about a kleptomaniac girl (because wasn't it always a girl?) who stole books, but it was for a "good reason." But he couldn't say that out loud. That would be rude._

"_What's it about?" he asked Alana._

"_A German girl who protects a Jewish man during World War II," she rattled off._

_Connor's eyes widened. "I'm intrigued," he said. "How's the book so far?"_

"_Oh, it's really good," Alana said. "They use the s-word a ton - many, _many _different s-words."_

"_I'm in," he said. "Wait, what do you mean, _many _different s-words?"_

"_There are German s-words," Alana explained. "One of them is _Saumensch _\- it's basically the w-word in German."_

"_Who wrote it?" he asked._

"_A guy named Markus Zusak - with a Z," Alana said. "But why would you want to know -"_

"_Hold on," he said. He raised his hand, and Ms. Garner walked over._

"_Yes, Connor?" she asked._

"_Can I go to the library? Just for a few minutes?" he asked._

"_What on earth for?" Ms. Garner replied._

"_There's this book that I really want to check out, and I can't wait until library class on Monday," he said._

_Ms. Garner sighed. "Well, I'm not going to get you to read any other way," she said. "I'll write you a pass - be sure to come back quickly, and don't get distracted by the book while you and Alana are working on the project."_

"_Don't worry, Ms. Garner," Alana said. "I'll keep him on track."_

_Connor rolled his eyes as Ms. Garner went to her desk and started writing on a hall pass._

"_Connor Murphy...library…" She looked up at the clock. "11:34...from room 109… alright, here you go."_

_Connor took the pass from her. "I'll be right back," he said. "Thanks."_

"_No problem," Ms. Garner said as Connor turned and walked out the door._

I could just sneak out right now, _he thought to himself. The eighth grade classroom was right next to the door to the outside. He could run out there and head home, or to Alana's house, or run away where nobody could find him -_

Or you could stop thinking like an idiot and go get that library book, _he thought. He took one last look at the door and then turned away, walking deeper into the school._

_The library in the school was humongous. It was almost like an atrium, with windows the size of walls. Large shelves of books jutted out - one side of the room was for nonfiction; the other was reserved for fiction._

_Normally, Connor hated the place. But if The Book Thief was in there...well, maybe he would hate it a little less._

_He walked into the R-Z aisle, passing the shredded remains of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows _(which he was responsible for, he was sad to say). At the very end of the aisle were the Z books._

"_Zusak...Zusak...Zusak...Zusak!" Connor said to himself, locating the book. He took it from the shelf and read the tagline: When Death has a story to tell, you listen._

_Connor's eyes widened. He left the library and speed-walked back to his classroom._

_He handed the pass back to Ms. Gardner and sat back down next to Alana. "You never told me that Death narrates!"_

"_Oh, yeah - I forgot about that," Alana said._

"_You should've led with that!" he said. "I would've read this thing in a heartbeat!"_

_Alana suppressed a smirk._

* * *

"_Okay," Connor said to himself. "I have seven days - 168 hours - 10,800 minutes - 604,800 seconds - to read this book before the librarian hunts me down. And this book has…"_

_He flipped to the end, trying to look at the page number without looking at the ending._

"_550 pages. So that's...about 78 pages a day."_

_He clicked out of his computer's calculator and closed the computer, sitting down on his bed. He opened to the first page and began to read._

_He didn't even notice when Zoe came into his room half an hour later._

"_What are you doing?" she asked._

_Connor jumped and hid the book behind his back. "Nothing," he said, almost sheepishly._

_Zoe smirked and grabbed the book from him. "The Book Thief," she said. "I'm impressed."_

"_Give it back," he said. "Hans Junior's about to die at Stalingrad."_

_He lunged for the book, easily getting it back from Zoe. She laughed as Connor reopened the book, and she headed for the door._

"_I'll leave you alone with Hans Junior," she said, smiling. "I'm proud of you, Connor. Oh, and by the way, Mom wanted me to tell you that dinner's ready."_

"_Tell Mom I'm busy," Connor said, not looking up from _The Book Thief_._

_Zoe shrugged. "Okay, but Dad's gonna freak," she teased as she left the room._

_Connor continued to read. He realized that normally, when he was doing something in his room (usually looking at his Tumblr feed), he would become paranoid that Dad _would _freak, and he'd head down immediately. But for some reason, he didn't feel the same way right now._

_Maybe it was the book. It _was _a good book - at least so far._

* * *

_Eventually, he went downstairs, book in hand. He sat at the table, looking up for a split second so that the library book wouldn't get in the food. Shrimp stir-fry, from the looks of it._

_Larry handed him a plate, which Connor fumbled for. He picked up a fork and turned the page._

"_What are you reading, Connor?" Cynthia asked earnestly._

"_The Book Thief," he said. "It's really good."_

"_What's it about?" Larry asked, almost indifferent._

"_A girl named Liesel and her foster family, Rosa and Hans Hubermann. They have to hide a Jewish man named Max Vandenburg in their house during World War II - and they live in Germany," Connor explained. "Oh, and it's narrated by Death."_

"_How is that even possible?" Zoe asked._

"_It's not like a Grim Reaper-esque Death," Connor said, his eyes focused on the words. "He's really - well, not _nice_, per se, but likable."_

"_Cool," Zoe said, noticing Connor's investment in the book. "So how was work, Dad?"_

_Connor smiled, silently thanking Zoe for giving him peace. He shoved a piece of shrimp into his mouth as he read. And then another, and then another, as fast as he could._

_He could barely hear Larry and Cynthia talking about their days, asking Zoe how school had been. As soon as he finished the meal, he looked up from the book._

"_May I be excused?" he said, more of a demand than an actual question._

"_Is it for the book?" Cynthia asked. Connor nodded, and she nodded in return. "Just come down in a bit - it's movie night!"_

"_What movie is it?" Connor asked, getting up from his seat._

"_Zoe wanted to watch the second Percy Jackson movie," Larry said._

_Connor rolled his eyes. "Really? The first one was terrible."_

"_I've heard it's better than the first one, Connor," Zoe said, exasperated. "I kinda want to get it over with."_

"_Fine," Connor said, walking away from the table. "I'll be down in a bit."_

_He walked into his room and belly-flopped onto his bed, looking back at the book. He turned the page - and instead of pages full of words, there were illustrations._

_He raised an eyebrow and looked at them, turning each page. Illustrations of an in-universe book, written by Max Vandenburg, about his journey to Liesel and her family._

_Connor smiled and continued reading. And as soon as Percy Jackson: The Sea of Monsters was done, he went back up and read the rest. _

_He suppressed giggles when Rudy had to undress in front of Liesel. He gasped when Hans was drafted into the German army. And there was one part, right before the dramatic, devastating ending, that didn't strike him as emotional - but something interesting._

_One line, summing it up. Well, two._

"_Michael Holtzapfel knew what he was doing. He killed himself for wanting to live."_

* * *

It was the first one that Evan read.

It was the first one on Connor's list (which probably meant that it was the one that Connor liked the most, but at this point, Evan had no time for hesitation). He bought it - and the others on the list - at the Barnes and Noble next to his new job.

_Please make this quick,_ he thought to himself as he walked up, the books piled in his hands, to the cashier.

"Hi," he said quickly, placing the books as gently in front of the cashier.

"Hello," the cashier said. "Cash or credit?"

"Cash," Evan said, his wallet already out. He counted out some money and took it out of his wallet, handing it to the cashier.

"Thank you," the cashier said, taking the money as she bagged the books. "Here's your change."

"Thanks," Evan said, taking the extra money from her. He hoped desperately that his palms weren't sweaty - which, of course, _made_ them sweaty.

"Have a good day," the cashier said. "Come back soon!"

"You, too," Evan said. "I mean - for the whole _have a good day _thing - you're already here - you work here is the thing - okay, I should go - I have work, sorry - bye!"

Blushing, Evan darted away from the cash register. A few seconds later, he came back to grab the bags of books.

"Sorry," he said. "I forgot these."

"It's fine," the cashier said, bewildered.

"Bye," Evan said, straddling the bags in his elbows and carrying them out of the store. He put the bags in his car, taking _The Book Thief_ out - maybe he could read it when business was slow.

He walked into the store, heading up to the cash register. A woman stood behind the desk, with black hair pulled back into a ponytail and dark, brown eyes.

"Do I know you?" she asked.

"I'm Evan - Evan Hansen - this is my first day of work -"

"Oh, yes, Evan," the woman behind the cash register said. "I'm Meg - I'm your supervisor. I'll be helping you for the first few days."

"Oh," Evan said. "Good."

"Here - come to the storage room, and I'll get you a name tag," Meg said, beginning to walk away. Silently - he didn't want to have another scene like he'd had in Barnes and Noble - he followed her to a door in the back. A large, red sign with white writing read "Employees Only."

"This is cool," Evan said. "I've always wondered what's behind these kinds of doors…"

"Well, whatever you think it is, it's not Disney World," Meg said snarkily. She opened the door...to reveal a gray room. Furniture was on shelves that reached to the top of the building, covered in plastic drapes. Evan and Meg were the most colorful things in the room.

"This is...somehow _not_ what I was expecting and _everything_ I was expecting, all in one," Evan said. "Is there any...color? Anywhere?"

"Not really," Meg said. "Well, when you take the plastic off, it's just Pottery Barn meets Sam's Club. We call it _backstage_ \- but it's kind of an ironic name."

Evan nodded. "So...my name tag?"

"Oh, yeah," Meg said, almost distracted. "Here - it's this way."

She turned a corner into a smaller room.

"This is my office," she explained. "It's where I work on evaluations and stuff. It's also where I keep outfits and tags for new employees. Here's yours."

She handed him a small name tag with "EVAN" written in Times New Roman on it - and then she handed him a blue button-down shirt, a tweed vest, and a muted red tie.

"I'm gonna look like a newsie in this," Evan pointed out. "Is there anything else I could wear?"

"Nope," Meg said. "That's the only outfit we have."

"What about this?" he said, gesturing to his striped blue polo.

"That's too _blah_ \- it screams, 'Everyman.' We need _Pottery Barn Man_!" Meg said, getting a little too excited for her own good.

"Okay," Evan said, concerned. The name "Pottery Barn Man" sounded like an unlikely superhero, he thought. "Where do I change?"

"Just go outside and take a left, and there'll be a door on your left," Meg said, shaking his hand forcefully. "We're excited to have you on board."

"Thanks," Evan said, taking the outfit and heading to the dressing room. He looked down at _The Book Thief_.

_Maybe I'll have time another day,_ he thought.

* * *

It turned out that he'd have time a little sooner than he'd thought.

After he got changed, looking like he had just come down from Broadway, he met Meg at the cash register.

"Now this button opens up the money drawer," she said, pointing to a button on the register. "This one creates a receipt, and this one prompts the credit card display."

"Got it," Evan said. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Just be yourself," Meg said. "They'll love ya."

"Oh, I doubt they'd love me," Evan said. "Not after -"

He stopped.

"Not after what?" Meg said.

"Oh, it's a long, tiresome story that can wait for another time," Evan said. "Please don't ask about it."

"Ask about what?" Meg said playfully.

"Good," Evan said.

"Hey, don't worry," Meg said. "You'll do great."

Evan smiled. "Thanks."

Suddenly, he heard a bell from the front of the room. His eyes widened. Someone had come in!

"Oh, and this button shows you the security feed," Meg said. "Good luck!"

She sat down next to him. Curious, Evan pressed the security button and looked at the feed that came up. To his horror, he recognized the person in the feed.

"Oh, God," he said, panicking. "You're handling this one."

"Why?" Meg said.

"It ties in to that other story I was telling you about!" he said. "Just - do it -"

"Evan?" someone else said. "Is that you?"

"Get down!" Meg said, helping Evan to the ground. "Just - read or something!"

Evan smiled, grabbing _The Book Thief_ from below the desk. He sat there, opening up the book and wondering who this narrator was and why it was so insistent on death.

"Hi!" he could hear Meg say. "Welcome to Pottery Barn - how may I help you?"

"Oh, it's nothing," the voice said. "I just thought I heard a friend - no, _acquaintance_. Acquaintance is a better word."

"Got it," Meg said. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Alana," the voice said. "Alana Beck."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Alana," Meg said.

_Oh,_ Evan realized. _The narrator _is _Death._ He flipped to the beginning so that he could read again with the new realization in mind.

"If you need any help, just let me know," Meg said. "I'll be right here."

"Perfect," Alana said. Evan could hear her footsteps walking away from the desk.

Meg leaned down. "You're scared of _her_? She was, like, the nicest girl ever!"

"I told you not to ask," Evan said. "We were classmates - we used to be friends. Just...let me know when she's gone."

Meg nodded. She didn't know what was going on with this kid, but she was determined to figure it out. "Sure thing."

"Oh, by the way," Evan asked, almost cringing as he said it. "Do you use social media?"

Meg shook her head. "I quit a year or two back. It was just too stressful. You know what I mean?"

Evan smiled optimistically. "Yeah," he said. "I do."

He looked back at the book.

He had always done well in his English classes - mostly on account of his writing, although he couldn't really fault his reading, either. The biggest problem for him was getting through stressful parts in books - as soon as things started getting bad for the characters, he'd get just as nervous as them - sometimes even more so.

And no book was more stressful - at least so far - than _The Book Thief_.

Almost immediately, Evan could feel his hands getting sweaty and shaky. The fact that Alana was so close to him didn't help his anxiety.

"She's gone," Meg said. "As soon as she talked with me, she walked out. I think she knows you're here."

"Oh, goodness," Evan said, standing up shakily.

"Hey, are you alright?" Meg said. "You look really pale."

"I'm fine," Evan said - just another entry in his book of lies. He knew he wasn't fine. He needed to tell Alana - but he still didn't know how.

* * *

"Alright," Evan said, handing in his "Pottery Barn Man" costume and shaking Meg's hand once more. "See you tomorrow."

"You, too," Meg said. "How are you enjoying that book?"

Evan looked down at _The Book Thief_, still in his hands. "It's good. Depressing, but good."

Meg smiled. "I love those kinds of books."

Evan nodded, unsure what to say. "Well, uh...see you tomorrow."

"You said that already," Meg pointed out.

"Oh," Evan said. "Sorry."

"Oh, no, it's fine," Meg said. "Have a good day!"

She turned back into her office, and Evan slowly walked away. As soon as he was out of Meg's eyesight, he ran.

As soon as he was out of the store, Evan went to his car and picked up the book. He didn't necessarily like sad books, but this one...there was something about it. Maybe it was the constant German profanity. Maybe it was the intense, straightforward narration.

Or maybe it was knowing that he was reading words that Connor had read.

Something about that simple fact changed things - it had changed its life, so why couldn't it change his opinion on depressing books about World War II with German profanity?

Eventually, the car got too hot for Evan to handle, so he turned it on and continued reading. The book was full of constant stress and strife, as good as it was, so he was only about a quarter of the way through when the gas light came on.

His eyes widened, and he put the book down reluctantly. Buckling his seatbelt, he drove away.

* * *

Thankfully, his house was just a few miles from work. As soon as he got home, he took the book inside and sat on the couch, reading it. He could still see a small stain on the couch, in the shape of a wavy circle. Water, still drying from a few months before. Well, tears, to be exact.

He didn't get too much farther - only up to Max, sleeping in the basement after his arrival to the Hubermann residence - when he heard the garage door open and Heidi walk in the front door.

"Hey," she said, breathless. "How was work?"

"Busy," he said. "I met this girl named Meg - she's going to be working with me for the first few weeks."

"Is she nice?" Heidi said hopefully.

Evan nodded. "And rather exuberant, too. I have this uniform that I wear, and I think she thinks I'm a Pottery Barn superhero."

Heidi stifled a giggle. "What are you reading?"

"_The Book Thief_," Evan said. "It's really good."

"Oh, I've heard about that one," Heidi said. "They made a movie about it, right?"

"Yeah," he said.

"What made you want to read it?" she asked.

"I was looking through those boxes downstairs, and I found the old 8th grade yearbook," Evan explained. "Connor had a list of some of his favorite books in it, so I decided to read them - as a kind of penance, I guess."

Heidi smiled. "That sounds great."

She didn't really know what else to say, so she turned toward the kitchen.

"I'm gonna make dinner now," she said as Evan looked back at the book. "Trader Joe's potstickers…"

"Great," Evan said, not looking up from the book. It was too good for him to look up; he could definitely understand how this could be Connor's favorite.

* * *

Thankfully, nobody else from Evan's school showed up at Pottery Barn the next few days. Well, to be honest, nobody else showed up. Period. Which gave him a lot of time for reading.

"I love this one character in it - her name's Rosa," he told Meg. "She's really snarky, she curses a lot, and she really cares for the main character."

"This is Rosa Hubermann?" Meg asked.

Evan's eyes widened. "You've read _The Book Thief_?"

"Who hasn't?" she said. "I haven't been talking about it because I don't want to accidentally spoil you."

"Oh, that's so cool!" Evan said. "I'm right at the part where Death spoils the thing about Rudy."

"Oh, well, there you go," Meg said. "He spoiled you before I could."

Evan smiled. He wondered if he could at least open up to Meg about what had happened -

_No_, he thought to himself, like a little argument within his brain. _She'll hate you. Everyone would. And besides, how would you even have the courage to open up? You can't talk to Alana, you haven't called Zoe, and you still haven't told your mom everything -_

"Shut up," he said out loud. Meg turned to him, confused.

"I don't think I was talking that loudly," she said.

"Oh, no, I wasn't talking about you," Evan said, blushing. "I was just - just talking to myself. Lost in thought, I guess. It's kind of a nervous tic of mine."

"Oh," Meg said, looking at Evan with a curious sparkle in her eye. Evan knew that Meg wanted to know more about him...but he looked away. He couldn't let her into his world - not yet. The last time he had done that, he had ended up where he was now.

He picked the book up from the counter and continued to read.

* * *

He was behind the counter at Pottery Barn when he reached the most emotional part.

It wasn't the death of everyone except Liesel in an accidental bombing of Himmel Street. It wasn't when Liesel saw Max again, years after the war.

It was two simple lines.

"_Michael Holtzapfel knew what he was doing. He killed himself for wanting to live."_

Evan gasped. "No, no, no…" he whispered to himself.

Meg ran over. "What is it?"

"Not like this…" Evan said. "Not like this."

A single tear ran down his cheek, which turned into two. Meg pulled him into a hug, and he began to sob into her shoulder.

After a few minutes had passed, he broke the hug.

"There was a kid in my class last year…" he explained, stumbling over each word. "Connor Murphy. Three days after school began, he -"

He paused.

"He killed himself," Meg finished. "Did you know him?"

"Not well, no," he said, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "But...then I realized that I'd never get the chance."

Meg nodded. "I know this is going to sound hollow, but I'm - I'm really sorry for you, Evan."

Evan shook his head and plastered a smile on his face. "It's fine," he said. "That's actually why I was reading this book - I was looking in my eighth grade yearbook, and he had listed his ten favorite books inside. So I decided to read them."

"That's cool," Meg said. She grabbed a box of tissues from under the counter and handed them to Evan. He blew his nose.

"Thanks," he said, putting the tissue box back under the counter.

"No problem," Meg said. "If you want to go backstage, that's fine."

"No," Evan said. "I'll stay - I'll stay out here. There's nobody here to see this, anyway."

Suddenly, the doorbell rang as somebody walked in.

"I'll be backstage," Evan said. Meg giggled as he sprinted to the "Employees Only" doors. She looked as he flung open the doors and ran inside.

_There's something he isn't telling me,_ she thought. _About that kid at his school who killed himself._

But she put it aside as the person walked up to the counter. It was a young girl, with indigo streaks in her hair and stars drawn on the cuffs of her jeans.

Whatever Evan had to say, it could wait as long as it needed to.

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and I can't wait for you to see the next one! **

**Feel free to review, but please no negative reviews or cursing. (And please, NOTHING POLITICAL, OTHER THAN THE FACT THAT PAYTON AND RIVER DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER.) Thanks!**


	3. The Deathly Hallows

**Hey guys! Time for the next chapter - you guys might be familiar with the source material this time. *wink***

**(Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.)**

* * *

**_Chapter 3:_**

**_The Deathly Hallows_**

_Connor was the last person in his class to read the Harry Potter books. He started reading them in seventh grade, after his teacher, Ms. Wiesel, assigned the book to his class. He was thinking of reading the CliffsNotes instead of actually doing the assignment, but Alana was so excited that he was finally going to read the books that he couldn't really refuse her._

_Of course the lesson was on the Hero's Journey. How could it not have been on the Hero's Journey?_

_Alana volunteered to hand out sheets with the outline of the Hero's Journey._

"_Now, class," Ms. Wiesel said, "who do you think of when you think of the word 'hero?'"_

"_Deadpool," Jared blurted out from the back of the class._

_Ms. Wiesel gave her "Nice-try-you-smart-aleck" face. "Let's try for someone a little more...school-appropriate, shall we? Alana - who would you consider to be a hero?"_

"_Anne Frank," Alana said as she gave herself the last paper and slid, almost effortlessly, into her seat.. "She was incredibly brave in the face of unspeakable evil."_

_Ms. Wiesel nodded, proud of Alana's obviously-rehearses answer. "Good choice, Alana. Evan? What about you?"_

_Evan, sitting a few seats down from Connor, turned beet-red. "Um...my mom, I guess."_

"_Really?" Ms. Wiesel said. "And why would you say that?"_

"_Because…" Evan stammered. "Because she's really strong...and really nice. I guess. If that fits the definition of a hero."_

_Ms. Wiesel smiled. "Very good. Connor? Who would you say is a hero?"_

_Connor was a deer in headlights. "Um…"_

"_It's fine if you can't think of anybody," Ms. Wiesel said. "Just try to think of someone who inspires you. Someone who you look up to."_

"_How about...Nico di Angelo," Connor said. "From the Percy Jackson books. He had to deal with a lot of hardships about his identity - his parentage, his feelings for others - and he stayed strong throughout it all."_

"_Nerd," Jared whispered just loud enough for Connor to hear._

"_Okay, Jared, that's enough," Ms. Wiesel said. "Can I tell you who my hero is?"_

_The class was silent._

"_My hero is John Scopes," Ms. Wiesel said. "He was a teacher in Tennessee in the 1920s, and he taught Darwin's theory of evolution at a time when doing so was illegal."_

"_Why would it be illegal to teach that?" Alana asked._

"_Because at that time, many schools had a Christian outlook on the creation of life," Ms. Wiesel explained. "So instead of being taught about natural selection and survival of the fittest, children in those days were taught about Adam and Eve and things of that sort. John Scopes changed that, and I wish I were as brave and intelligent as him. I hope that if I have to, I can teach what is right instead of what is easy to understand."_

_Jared raised his hand. "I was told that this lecture would have something related to that dead gay wizard that Snape killed."_

"_Some of us don't want to be spoiled for a series that they haven't read, Jared," Connor said, turning around in his seat._

"_Well, some of us don't like it when someone interrupts in the middle of class," Jared said._

"_You were interrupting first!"_

"_I raised my hand."_

"_Oh, so speak and the world is full of singing, right?"_

"_Hey, that's _My Fair Lady_, right?"_

"_Yes it is, thank you very much."_

"_Well, wouldn't it be loverly if we just got back to class?" Ms. Wiesel interjected._

_The room fell silent._

"_Thank you," Ms. Wiesel said. "Now, what does being a hero have to do with our lesson today? Today, we will be talking about -"_

_She clicked a button on that little black remote that controlled the projector. The screen flashed for a second, then turned blue._

"_Wait for it...wait for it…" she said._

_Suddenly, the blue was replaced by a slideshow._

"_The Hero's Journey!" Ms. Wiesel said. "The Hero's Journey is a series of steps outlined by psychologist Joseph Campbell. Joseph Campbell wanted to figure out the archetypes engrained in heroes of popular culture, so he created this list of the steps heroes take on their way to greatness. Let's take an example that is familiar to all of you. How many of you have read the book _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_?"_

_Everyone raised their hand except for Jared. "I've seen the movie," he said._

"_Well...we'll just have to help Jared as we go along," Ms. Wiesel said. "Now, there are three acts that divide the Hero's Journey - the first is Separation."_

_The slideshow flipped to a slide titled "The Ordinary World." This was going to be boring, Connor thought._

"_In _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_, Dorothy doesn't feel like she belongs in Kansas. She feels out-of-place in the ordinary world. People consider her to be slightly odd."_

"_That's because she sings to dogs and falls into pigpens," Jared blurted out._

"_Jared, if you don't stop this foolishness, I will have to report you to the principal."_

"_That's fine. She and my mom are tight."_

"_Jared…" Ms. Wiesel said, threateningly enough that Jared stopped talking._

"_That's better. And please, let us remember that there was no singing in the original book. That also means no _Wicked _references."_

"_Dang it," Jared whispered, just soft enough that the teacher couldn't hear. Connor couldn't help but let a little smile peek through._

* * *

_So Connor read the first Harry Potter book. And then the next one, and then the next. Zoe found him on his bed one day with a blue-colored book the size of his head. It was obviously a library book from that stupid plastic covering that did absolutely nothing if someone spilled a drink on it._

"_What's up?" he said, his nose stuck in the book._

_Zoe paused for a second. "Nothing much," she said passively. "The Harrises called - they want to go away for a weekend retreat next week."_

"_Oh, come on," Connor said, pushing his body into a sitting position and placing the book upside-down on his pillow. "Mom knows how much I hate retreats with the Harrises. It's bad enough they're making me read these stupid books over break."_

"_All of the books?" Zoe said, an eyebrow raised in skepticism. Connor gave her the stink-eye, before it melted into a smirk. "But you know Mom. Ever since the Harrises dragged her into Pilates, she's been a different person."_

"_She's just pretending to be so that she doesn't go crazy," Connor said. "She's rich and she doesn't have a job. She has all the time in the world and nothing useful to make of it."_

"_Oh, so you're for women's rights now," Zoe said._

"_When have I not been for women's rights?" Connor said. "Now leave me alone for a bit. They're going into the Department of Mysteries - which is a terrible idea, if you ask me. Someone's going to die."_

_He flopped back onto the bed, grabbed the book by its spine, and continued reading, in a position Zoe couldn't imagine was good for Connor's neck. "Just you wait," she said, then turned to go out the door, a cautious, knowing smile on her face._

* * *

_Connor wasn't one to cry at books. Movies, maybe. Musicals? Oh, without a question. But books? It took a really devastating book to crush Connor emotionally._

_And then he got to the end of Chapter 31 of Deathly Hallows._

_It was the day before the weekend retreat to the Harrises was supposed to begin. Larry was downstairs packing the car, while Cynthia was stretching out before going to help him. Zoe was in her room, playing some emotional indie Americana song (probably a Jason Isbell song - Zoe adored Jason Isbell songs) on her guitar. _

_Connor didn't notice when Zoe called his name, said that she wanted to show him something. He was lost in the Battle of Hogwarts, Percy Weasley finally making a joke and Fred calling him out on it, and then - what was that? "The air exploded?" What was that supposed to mean?_

_And then it happened. The scream, agony of a kind neither flame nor curse could cause. The calling of a name, and the discovery of Fred Weasley's body, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face._

_It was all so sudden that it hit Connor like a punch. He hadn't realized how much he had liked Fred and George Weasley, the prankster twins of Hogwarts, until one of them was gone. And suddenly he realized that there was a tear running down his face, dripping onto his pillow, dangerously close to the open book._

_He put the book to the side and started to cry more, and more. He had never felt this way about a fictional character before. He hadn't even cried when Mufasa died in The Lion King, which, according to the internet, made him an irredeemable monster of a human being._

"_Connor?" Zoe called again, running up, guitar in hand. "Are you -"_

_She stopped in the doorframe, not believing what she was seeing. The last time she had seen Connor cry like this was at the end of Bonnie and Clyde (the musical, not the movie. Larry had decided to bring the family to see it in early December of the year it opened, and Zoe was glad - the show had closed by the end of the month)._

_For some reason, her first reaction was to let out a little giggle. Here was Connor Murphy, her older brother by 18 months, the debonair with the long, black hair and the leather jacket, sobbing on his bed about a Harry Potter book he didn't even want to read at first._

_And then he stopped crying. The room was silent. Even the air conditioning seemed to be still._

_And he looked up, tears on his face and murder in his eyes._

_Zoe's face went pale. She immediately pivoted and ran towards her room, holding her guitar in her left hand, Connor's menacing footsteps rushing after her._

"_ZOE GABRIELLE MURPHY, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, fearless._

_Zoe ran through the doorframe into her room, grabbing the door with her free hand and slamming it shut behind her. Her breath was shaky as she put the guitar on her bed and went back to the door, carefully pressing her ear to it._

_She heard a thump, then a much quieter thump, then a gasp. Something must've happened outside. _

_She opened the door an inch to see Connor, his hands pressed to his face. On the floor in front of him was Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, pages folded erratically and the spine broken._

_It didn't take long for Zoe to realize what had happened. She wanted to admonish Connor for what he had done. After all, she thought, if you hurl a library book at someone's door in an angry fit of rage, you can't be that surprised when the book is broken._

_But for some reason, she quietly rushed past him. "I'll get the tape," she said, running downstairs to get Larry's roll of scotch tape. She hoped desperately that he and Cynthia hadn't heard any of the commotion, then reasoned that they wouldn't have heard it, due to them both being outside._

_Upstairs, Connor stared at the book. Had he really just done that? His hands were tingling with adrenaline, his heart was beating with rage - though at whom, he couldn't really say - and waterfalls rushed down his face. _

_Shaken, he turned to watch Zoe hop down the stairs, almost cheerful. It dawned on him that she was telling the truth. She was just getting the tape. She wasn't going to tell. She wouldn't tell anyone, not unless Connor wanted to._

_He really didn't deserve a sister like Zoe._

_He really didn't._

* * *

_He never ended up reading Cursed Child. Zoe got to it before him. One day at dinner, she brought up that she had finished reading it._

"_Consensus?" Connor said._

"_I mean, it's probably better live, but I don't really see how," Zoe said. "They set up a relationship between Albus and Scorpius, but then they get rid of it in the penultimate scene."_

_Connor rolled his eyes. "It's Gene and Finny all over again."_

_Zoe smiled. "Except neither of them dies."_

"_A Separate Peace," Cynthia chimed in, elated. "I know that one."_

"_And Albus and Scorpius are…" Larry asked._

"_Boys, Dad, they're both boys," Zoe said. "Honestly, I don't get why that's the crucial takeaway from what I was saying."_

_If there was one thing Connor hated more than anything, it was activism that didn't follow through._

_He really didn't deserve a sister like Zoe._

_He really didn't._

* * *

"Alright," Evan said as he pushed the box set of the Harry Potter books into a shelf below the counter at Pottery Barn. "Should I set, like, a goal for when to finish these?"

"Nah, you really don't have to," Meg said nonchalantly. "I mean, it might be fun to reread them one day - I had a friend who reread them in four days - but for the first go-around, it might be good just to take your time and really enjoy them. Get to know the characters."

"But don't get attached," Evan said.

"I think that's the golden rule for any of the books from Connor's list - don't get attached," Meg said. "Fortunately, I don't think J.K. Rowling was big on mental health and suicide struggles in her books."

"Bad for activism," Evan said with a chuckle, "but good for me. Oh, and is the whole Dumbledore -"

"You wouldn't know he was gay if you just read the books," Meg said. "Again, bad for activism, but good for you. The less angst, the better. Oh, and speaking of fake gay people - don't even bother with Cursed Child."

"Really?" Evan said, surprised. "Didn't it win Best Play at the Tonys?"

"If you're not going to see it on Broadway or on the West End, don't read Cursed Child," Meg said. "Trust me."

Evan put his hands up in joking surrender. "Okay, I trust you."

He pulled the first book out of the shelf and smiled.

"You know, we did read this in middle school - seventh or eighth grade or something," he said. "I actually do remember Connor being in that class. He would have verbal battles with Jared constantly."

"Jared?" Meg asked.

"Another kid from school," Evan said. "We're family friends, but we used to hang out a decent amount. He could sometimes be a bit of a -"

"Blockhead?" Meg finished.

"Well, I was going to say jerk, but blockhead works, too," Evan said, smiling. "They'd go off about interrupting each other, weird spoiler references, old Broadway musicals, you name it."

"Old Broadway musicals?" Meg asked, intrigued.

Evan nodded. "Once, someone - I think it was Alana, that girl you met the other day - she told him that Carousel wasn't a good musical because of all the abuse and stuff. He spent the rest of the day belting Billy's soliloquy in the hallways between classes. It was pretty hilarious."

"Did he have a good voice?" Meg asked.

"Surprisingly, yes," Evan said, and he and Meg burst into giggles.

"So you read this book and never kept on reading?" Meg asked.

"I did read a little bit," Evan said. "I tried to read Chamber of Secrets, but I couldn't get past Chapter 7. I just couldn't get into it, I guess."

"Well, maybe you can now," Meg said, gesturing at the book in Evan's hand. "Have fun reading - I'll take first shift."

Evan smiled, thankful, sitting down on a chair behind the counter and opening the book up. _This should be fun,_ he thought.

* * *

Evan was certain this time. The fact that Connor had read these books made them that much more intriguing, more interesting, maybe even a little more enjoyable. The time passed in a blur of action and excitement. The one specific moment he could remember was right before he finished Goblet of Fire. Cedric had just died, and Voldemort had just been brought back from beyond death, and -

"Oh, you just finished that part?" Meg said, looking over Evan's shoulder. He jumped in his seat, his stool rocking.

"I didn't realize you were standing right behind me," he said, an amused tremble in his voice.

"Yep," Meg said. "Now come here. I gotta show you something."

She pulled up a video online. "These college kids made a Harry Potter musical back in, like, 2009," Meg said, typing "A Very Potter Musical" into the search bar. "They put it on YouTube and it went nuts. It's really good, and super funny."

"But shouldn't I wait until I finish the books?" Evan pointed out.

"Just watch this one part," Meg said, clicking on part 13 and turning the volume up very slightly. "Oh, and the sound quality sucks, so I'll get the captions."

"Wait - is that Darren Criss?" Evan said.

Meg nodded. "You know Darren Criss?" she asked.

"Yeah," Evan said. "From Glee -"

Suddenly, the memory of why he had even gotten into Glee in the first place came rushing back.

"A friend of mine -" a girl - "a close friend -" Zoe - "would watch the show with me -" before I messed everything up, like I always do - "a while ago."

"Nice," Meg said. "So, Cedric's a lot more of a jerk in this version, and he's just teased Harry about him being a Gryffindor after they ended up in the graveyard."

"Oh, this is his death scene?"

"Yes. It's hilarious. Now watch." She hit the spacebar, and the video played.

Darren Criss - Harry Potter - was obviously exasperated and annoyed. "God - Cedric - you are so annoying, okay? You're like this guy, that's just..._around_ all the time, when I don't need a guy around! You're this _spare_ guy all the time, this _spare _dude - you're just a spare!"

"Kill the spare!" a voice cried. The camera cut to a man in a turban with some...very large lump behind him.

"Wait...is that supposed to be Quirrell?" Evan asked.

"Yep," Meg responded, pausing the video.

"But...Quirrell wasn't in this part of the books."

"Nope."

"Does it really matter?"

"Nope." She unpaused the video to a cry of "Avada Kedavra."

The actor playing Cedric fell to the ground, knocking over a cardboard cutout of a headstone. "So many regrets…" he said, anguished. Then a beat. "I dead."

He collapsed, mirroring Evan's laughter. Meg paused the video again.

"So what do you think?" she asked.

"It's hilarious," he said. "I really should finish reading the books."

"Oh, and there's a sequel, too," she said, closing out the YouTube window as Evan sat back at his reading stool. "And the actor who plays Voldemort also plays Umbridge."

"Umbridge?" Evan asked.

"Read," she said. As if that one word was an epic enough exit line, she darted backstage.

Evan smiled to himself as he reopened Goblet of Fire to the right page. His cheeks were fading back to their natural hue, after the red they had previously turned.

* * *

He was on to Deathly Hallows, reading about Horcruxes and released dragons and Polyjuice Potions galore, on the day that _he_ came in.

Evan had let down his guard, reading behind the counter, with Meg letting him know whenever someone was there and he had to actually do his job. He was about to get to the Battle of Hogwarts when -

"Evan, there's someone here," Meg said.

"Just a second," Evan said, not looking up from the book. He reached for a bookmark when -

"Well, well, well," a voice said. "What have we here?"

Evan looked up and nearly dropped the book on his foot.

It was none other than Jared Kleinman. His face tanned, his short dark hair in almost imperceptible curls. He had on a shirt that said "Billy Bigelow Is Not a Bigot."

"How did you know I was here?" Evan asked, his face turning white.

"Alana told me," Jared said. He seemed more confident and indignant than usual.

"Well, then, why are you here?" Evan asked, trying to get more to the point.

Jared shrugged. "I just wanted to see how much of a coward you were."

"Okay, that's it," Meg said. "Get out of this store."

"No, Meg, it's fine," Evan said.

"Oh, you gotta stick up for your girlfriend, is that it?" Jared said, a sly look on his face. He knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

"Okay - can we just - you know, talk in private?" Evan asked, grasping at straws.

Jared groaned. "Fine," he said, with the tone of voice of an impatient toddler. Evan brought him to a small corner of the store.

"Listen, Jared," Evan said. "She doesn't know. She doesn't know about any of it."

"Oh, so you're lying to her, too?" Jared said, letting out a chuckle. "Like _that_ worked the first time. You know what they say about people who do the same thing over and over again, expecting a different outcome every time?"

"Look, it's not like that," Evan said. "She knows that - she knows I didn't know Connor. She knows the truth - she just doesn't know about the lying. I told her I didn't want to talk about it, which is true. She's actually nice - you wouldn't understand that."

"I understand people being nice," Jared responded. "I just don't understand it coming from you."

Evan knew this was going nowhere, and it wasn't helping anything. His heart was racing, his palms growing sweatier by the second.

"Can you just not make a big deal?" Evan said. "Also, we're not dating, so get that dirty smile off your face before I slap it off."

Jared raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you're assertive now," he said. "That's cool, I guess."

He started to walk away, heading towards the door. Then he turned back.

"Oh, and if the simple fact that you're living a lie - again - ever makes its way into your pathetic brain, you know who to call."

He turned away and walked out the door, a pleasant chime echoing through the building. It hung in the air and faded into a pensive silence.

"Evan?" Meg asked, walking over to the corner. "Who was that?"

Evan shook his head. "It was nothing," he lied.

Meg smiled, a bittersweet smile that saw right through him. "Okay," she said. "If you need to spend some time backstage for a bit, I understand."

Evan nodded slightly and walked into the backstage area, almost in a trance, hypnotized by his thoughts. He knew he shouldn't have let Jared into his head, but it was almost impossible not to.

What had become of his life? Was he going to be forced to live a lie every day from then on? Was this a lie, like Jared had said, or just some messed-up version of the truth? Or was it something in between, something harder to contemplate, straddling the line between fact and fiction?

What was Evan trying to hold on to? Some old high school memory, a grievance he wanted to make right? Or was it just him trying to reclaim the story, bring it back to him, turn it into something else - something monstrous?

He closed his eyes, wondering why there were no tears coming to his eyes. If there was any time for him to cry, it would be now.

But nothing came. No sign of any remorse, any message sinking in.

He couldn't help but wonder what that meant.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! This one was an emotional one for me, but I really enjoyed it. I'm loving writing for Jared - he's naturally super snarky, and it's a great place for me to interject classic musical theatre references.**

**Also, a little fun fact - the reason Zoe's middle name in this is Gabrielle is because when I saw DEH in August, my Zoe was Gabrielle Carrubba. She was super amazing and awesome, and I wanted to give her a little tribute. She'll never read this, but that's fine.**

**ALSO also, in a neat little coincidence, the reference to Chapter 31 of Deathly Hallows is coming right around the same time that the same chapter is a major plot point in my Harry Potter fanfic, _Shine On Rainy Day_. Check it out if you haven't already!**

**Feel free to review, but please no negative reviews or cursing. (And please, NOTHING POLITICAL!) Thanks!**


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